Practice Makes Perfect
by petrichorister
Summary: Training with Vilkas isn't always as easy as it looks, for a multitude of reasons.
1. Beginnings

**Summary:** Training with Vilkas isn't always the easiest thing to do.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own these characters or the world they live in (with the exception of some OCs I'm going to mention in later chapters, but they don't feature prominently in this story).  
**AN:** This is going to be a short multi-chapter fic, which was inspired by one of those silly little NPC dialogues to which I pay far too much attention. I've already written the whole thing and will be updating soon, but comments are always appreciated.

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"I don't know about this."

The intensity of Vilkas' eyes across from her made Ria want to squirm. She certainly didn't want to disappoint him, but this was too far out of her comfort zone. Swords and axes she could handle, but _this_ was completely different.

"You're doing fine." His voice had lost some of its usual gruffness as he tried to encourage her. "Keep going. Soon, it will feel like-"

"Like a shortsword." Ria sighed. "I'd much rather wield two war axes. It just seems so _slow_."

"It will feel that way for a while. But, eventually, you'll get used to it, and then you'll get faster with it." He smiled at her. Surely it was some attempt to reassure her, but Ria still found herself getting impatient. She very rarely got irritated with such things, but this was trying her patience beyond its limits. She'd have to remember that, in the future, she would need to find other things to train with him on.

Anything but _knitting_.

The needles felt awkward in her hands. There was hardly anything there to grab on to. No leverage to work with. The way the yarn slid around on the needle threw off her balance considerably.

"It's simple, once you get used to it." Vilkas' fingers glided easily over his own set of needles, wafting the yarn over and under and over again, sliding stitches from one stick to the next with precision. "Watch my hands."

Carefully, the tip of one of knitting needles slipped through a stitch on the other. His free hand pulled the long string over, between the needles. The tip slid back through the stitch, back out the way it came, and gently pushed the stitch off. He did the same to the rest on the row, moving smoothly with the woolen yarn.

"Try."

Ria did her best to copy his actions. The needle clumsily stuck into the yarn as she tried to move it through the stitch; the yarn pulling from the ball got stuck as she tugged at it; the stitch was almost too tight for her to properly stick the needle back through. The needle stuck as she made to pull the stitch off, yarn tangling everywhere.

"What did I do?"

"You pushed the needle the wrong way. Here."

Vilkas put down his own needles and moved around her. He crouched behind her chair, moving his hands down to hers. She hoped he couldn't feel her shiver as his sleeves brushed over the bare skin of her arms.

"What you want is to put the needle the same way through the side," he explained as he untangled the sad-looking stitch she'd just attempted. "Push it up through the front-" his hands guided hers "-and bring the yarn through the back. Careful not to twist the yarn around the string, and don't pull it too tight, or you won't be able to pick it up again. Now, the needle goes back down through the front." His fingers had the softest touch, and yet they managed the move the needles effortlessly, even with Ria's hands in the way.

As his hands worked the needles, he leaned closer, pressing against her back. The rough pad of his thumb glossed over the back of her hand. His breath was warm as it blew past her cheek. She barely even noticed the ball of yarn falling off her lap and unrolling itself on the stone floor of the living quarters. For just a moment, she was completely engulfed in every sensation surrounding her.

"There."

The row was complete, and she'd somehow missed the whole thing.

"Can we do another row?" Ria hoped Vilkas didn't notice how her breath hitched. "I'd like to make sure I've got it right."

"Of course."

This time, Ria made sure to pay close attention to the exact movement of his hands. She would have to remain unfazed by the delicate touch of his fingers, by the rise and fall of the breaths in his chest, by his long hair lightly grazing against her neck...

_Damn it_.

She focused her eyes intently on his movements. _Under, over, under_, she repeated to herself as she watched. It wasn't a perfect description of the movement, but it would hopefully help. _Front, back, front. Under, over, under; front, back, front. Got it_. As he helped finish the row, she let out a long breath.

"Try it yourself now." He moved back to where he had been before, leaving her hands to manage the knitting needles by themselves so that he might watch her.

Ria's hands weren't quite as steady or as sure as Vilkas' had been, but she managed to do the stitches correctly this time. The stitches slipped from one needle to another with little resistance. Sure, they were a bit uneven, but she would certainly take that over impossibly wrong.

"Excellent." Vilkas beamed at her. "Like I told you, you'll get used to it, and, then, you will get faster with it."

"I don't think it'll ever come as easily as a sword, but I'll try."

For more time like this with him, she really would.


	2. Tension

"It will come to you, in time. I swear it."

Vilkas' eyes peered over the beginning of the scarf hanging off of Ria's knitting needles. The rows were uneven, some of the stitches were lopsided, and the yarn slacked enough to leave gaping holes in many parts. And yet, for whatever reason, he was smiling at her.

"How is this helpful?" A scarf full of holes hardly seemed useful. "I wouldn't know what to do with this."

"If the scarf disappoints you, you can unravel the whole thing and start over."

_The whole thing?_ After all the work she'd put into it, destroying it was not something she particularly wanted to do. Still, a ragged scarf was of little use to her in the long run. "I guess it's worth the practice," she sighed, "but I'm not sure I understand why this is necessary to begin with."

"Knitting is a useful skill in this province, especially in the winter months. You've been in Skyrim for the past three winters. I doubt the cold has escaped your notice. Surely you understand _that_." The cocky smile on his face could have warmed all of Tamriel on its own, but he didn't need to know that. Ria knew that she would do just as well to keep that observation to herself, just so long as he didn't catch her staring.

"I've been in Skyrim my entire life. Twenty-six years, and I've never needed it before. Bear pelts suit me just fine."

"My mistake." His laughter rang through the entire mead hall. "But, once you've slain all the bears in Skyrim, you'll need something else to occupy your time."

"I suppose so." Her lips twitched upwards of their own accord into a reluctant smile. "I don't know how I'll get anything useful made, though," she added, poking a finger through one of the holes on the scarf.

"That is a matter of tension. Here," he said, taking the needles from her hands. "I'll unravel this now and start a new one for you."

His fingers made quick work of the yarn, balling it up again as the crinkled stitches came undone. The fiber didn't look the same anymore: where it had once been smooth, it was filled with kinks and waves of all sorts of sizes, showing how uneven her work had been. As he cast the new stitches on to the needle, everything looked clean and smooth once again. He made it look so _easy_.

"What you want to do is get used to the weight," he explained matter-of-factly as his fingers deftly wrapped the yarn around the tip of the needle. "You have to be careful not to pull the wool too tightly or leave it hanging too loosely. Look," he said, holding the sticks up to her eye level. "The best way to keep it consistent is to make sure the yarn stays snug, but not _taut_. You mustn't pull it until it gets thin. You need just enough slack to allow the needle back through. Now you try."

Ria nodded her head, hoping she could remember that much that. _Under, over, under; front, back, front_. _Snug, but not taut_. She ran the words through her head a few times as she ran the yarn between the needles, trying to be as precise as possible.

"How did you learn to knit, anyways?" she asked once she had knitted a few stitches successfully. She tried, and she tried _hard_, to keep her voice nonchalant, but she knew that the way she was concentrating on the needles in her hands was leaking into her tone.

"There was an old Redguard woman who was a member of the Circle when I was just a pup," he mused. "Mhiralda was her name. She knitted all the time, and I watched. Eventually, she got so sick of me looking over her shoulder that she offered to teach me." He laughed as he recounted the tale. "Perhaps it was not wise to bother a seasoned warrior such as her, but I was very young, and I was fairly sure she had been instructed not to kill me."

Ria did her best to focus on the yarn in her hands, but the sound of Vilkas' voice as he regaled her with happy memories was a tempting distraction. She didn't dare look up at his face, because then she would certainly be lost.

When the row was finished, her fingers ached, but at least the stitches were even. She held the needles up proudly, showing Vilkas her progress.

His smile alone was enough to let her know her sore fingers were worth it.


	3. Backwards

This time around, the scarf was actually looking usable. The plain white wool was soft where it hung from the needles, with only one or two tiny holes marring the consistency. As Vilkas had told her, each row was getting faster, and her fingers were beginning to move easily with the yarn.

Seeing her progress brought a smile to Vilkas' face, which in turn brought a smile to her own.

"You're doing beautifully!" he exclaimed as he examined the scarf, which was very nearly done. "If you continue at this rate, you'll be purling in no time."

Ria could feel the smile slide right off her face. "I thought I was learning to knit."

"Of course." He let out a low chuckle. "You are. _Purl_ is just another stitch. It's the... the _opposite_ of knit, if you will."

"How is there an _opposite_?" Her brain turned to mush as she tried to figure out what he meant. "Don't tell me I'll be unraveling the whole thing again."

"No, no!" he laughed. "Here, I'll show you."

His hands reached for his own needles, from which only a few rows hung off. "To knit, you push the needle upwards through the stitch." He demonstrated what he meant, a simple motion she was familiar with, before slipping the needle back out to its previous position. "To purl, you push the needle _down_." He flipped the pull yarn around to the other side of the needle before slipping the tip down through the front of the stitch. The yarn twirled around with a swift move of his hands. "Then, you push back up." The tip of the needle poked back through, tugging the stitch off the other needle in the process. "You see?"

It made enough sense, once he explained it. She had just begun to mimic his movements when she was stopped by his hands on hers. The moment he touched her, her head snapped up and her breath caught in her throat. _Gods_, she hoped he didn't notice.

"Here," he said, taking the needles from her hands and giving her his own. "I don't want you to lose your progress."

"What if I mess up yours?"

"I've only made three rows. I can pick up stitches again. Don't worry." His voice was gentle, reassuring her.

Ria looked at the needles in her hands. _Over, under, over; front, back, front. Snug, but not taut_. She pushed the needle through, carefully guiding it downwards, before wrapping the yarn around and pulling the needle back out again. "I did it!"

"So you did!" He looked at the stitch with pride before taking the needles back and continuing the row.

A question tugged at the corner of Ria's mind. "Vilkas," she began cautiously, "why do you like knitting?"

"I find it calming," he said softly as his fingers moved the yarn around in rapid movements. "As mercenaries, we spend much of our time destroying. It doesn't bother me, but all the same, it feels... _nice_, to be creating instead."

Ria nodded as she listened. "This coming from the man who claims to have killed one of every living thing in Skyrim."

He laughed quietly in response. "Fair point. But, there, you see? All the more reason for me to try to ground myself with a different activity. Something constructive. Death is everywhere in this province, and this brings warmth and protects life."

His last sentence struck a chord with her. She was going to finish this scarf it was the last thing she did.


	4. A Break

The scarf was almost complete. Ria needed to talk to Vilkas before she could really finish it, however, as she assumed the stitches wouldn't react well to just being pushed off. Unfortunately, the Nord was nowhere to be found.

_There's always later, I guess,_ she thought as she walked, unfinished scarf in tow, back from the hallway that included his room. She'd learned so much already, the rest could wait. Enough work had been put into it that she didn't plan on forgetting it anytime soon.

Still, if she saw someone walking towards her just now, asking about Vilkas wouldn't _hurt_, would it?

Aela happened to be the unlucky person heading down the hall at that moment. A strong smile appeared on her face as she nodded hello. "Shield-sister."

"Shield-sister." Ria nodded her own head as she passed by, before stopping in her own tracks. "Hey, Aela..."

The Circle member turned around. "Yes?"

"Do you happen to know where Vilkas is?" She wasn't sure, but she thought Aela may have rolled her eyes and let out a snort. Or was it a cough? She couldn't tell. "I can't find him."

"Looking for you, probably. Usually is."

"Really?" Ria's brow furrowed as confusion muddled her brain. "Have you seen him?"

"Not today, no." This time Aela did nothing to conceal her amusement. "I'm just saying, if you stay right where you are, he'll find you eventually. He likes you too much to let you out of his sight very long. He's like a lovesick puppy." She shook her head in mock disgust as she laughed.

_Lovesick?_ "I don't know what you're getting at."

"Oh, come on. Have you noticed how he acts?"

"He's always been very kind to me."

"And how kind is he to everyone _else_?" the Nord asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Ria had to think for a minute. "He's nice to Farkas."

"Farkas doesn't count because he's his twin. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying Vilkas isn't nice, but he's a bit rough around the edges with most people. Even Kodlak had to deal with his anger some of the time. But then there's _you_. He takes you as shield-sister on every excursion. He has for a year now. And besides," she added, pointing to the pile of woven yarn in Ria's hands, "look how much time he's spending with you lately."

"He's been teaching me to knit!" Ria pulled the scarf in defensively.

"Exactly. Do you see him teaching Athis or Njada?" Aela let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, he was the first to offer to train you in anything. He brings you on almost every job. He's teaching you to _knit_, the wimp. I bet he's written you a damn poem or something. I bet it's hidden under his mattress. Here, I'll check-"

"No, that's okay," Ria said sheepishly. "I'll find him later. Thanks."

Ria rushed back to the room she shared with three other Companions and dropped her scarf on her bed, careful not to let the stitches slip off. Maybe it would be a good idea to get some fresh air now.


	5. Breath of Fresh Air

Vilkas had certainly been right when he said that Skyrim could get chilly in the winter. It was still Sun's Dawn, and Ria found herself shivering as she walked out of Jorrvaskr and into the streets of Whiterun. Not much, of course; she'd grown used to winters growing up, and little could convince her to wear anything over her usual leather armor.

Besides, sometimes the cold air was refreshing. For just a minute, she could focus on the weather, on not bumping into everyone else as she strode past at a brisk pace. She could put Aela's words out of her mind. She could pretend that she hadn't heard the Nord woman tell her that she herself was the object of her shield-brother's affections. She could imagine that all was completely normal, and that she was none the wiser.

Obviously, she couldn't.

She'd barely made it to the Plains District when she spotted the very man she'd been looking for earlier. Vilkas was arguing with one of the vendors rather loudly. From the sound of it, the price of cabbage was exorbitant, to say the least, and the vendor did not hesitate to tell him where he could stuff it.

_He's a bit rough around the edges with most people_...

As he huffed away from the marketplace, he walked straight in her direction. He'd barely stepped three paces when he saw her and all but stopped completely. She couldn't shake Aela's words from her head as she caught the smile appearing on his face. "Ria!" he called out enthusiastically.

_...but then there's you_.

"Hello," she mumbled as he approached.

"Precisely the woman I was looking for. I've gotten word from the Jarl of Falkreath that there's a group of bears near their capitol that has been giving their people trouble. I thought you may wish to come along."

_He takes you as a shield-sister on every excursion._

She tried to collect her thoughts as he looked at her expectantly. "Of course. When do you want to leave?"

"As soon as we can. I presume you need your sword," he said, noting that she lacked a weapon.

"Yes. Of course." Ria swallowed the lump growing in her throat. "I'll be right back. I'll meet you at the stables soon." She dashed off to Jorrvaskr, leaving Vilkas behind her.

When she arrived, her mind was a mess. She wished, so _badly_, that Aela hadn't said anything to her at all. Life was simpler just an hour ago, when she simply harbored an unrequited crush, nothing but a silly fantasy. And now... _now_ she was analyzing his actions, and her brain was muddling over the simplest of topics. For half a moment, she couldn't even remember what she had returned for.

She sprinted down the steps to her quarters, where she found her sword. What else did she usually take? Food for the road, maybe. Some bread would probably be enough for the trip, presuming they found food in Falkreath. Which they would. Of course. Maybe a bear pelt would be nice to keep her warm on the road. She had enough to spare.

The scarf she had been working on sat on her bed. That would just have to wait until she got home, she supposed.

As she dashed back up the steps, she caught sight of Aela again. The Nord woman noticed the sword and bag, and a grin flitted across her face. She raised an eyebrow and looked as though she was going to comment.

"Don't you dare," Ria said hurriedly as she rushed past the Circle member. That seemed rude to her, so she quickly added a cheerful, "There's a bear in Falkreath with my name on it!"

She could barely even hear Aela's laughter as she ran back out the doors.


	6. Falkreath

The bears had been easy enough to take out. The beasts stood no chance against the two Companions. By the time they'd finished the task, there was hardly enough light to walk back to Whiterun, so Ria and Vilkas agreed to head over to Dead Man's Drink to spend the night.

"You're smiling," Vilkas noted as they walked into the tavern. "You've barely smiled since we left Whiterun."

"Well, we finished the job," said Ria, feeling calm for the first time in hours. "And, besides, I like Falkreath. I grew up here." As her friend froze by the doorway in surprise, she waved at the innkeeper, Valga, who recognized her immediately.

It didn't take long to catch up with Valga and get some food. Ria hadn't expected her meal to be on the house, but evidently the news of being a Companion was good enough for earning one free room for the night and a permanent place in the inn whenever she came to visit.

"You never mentioned you grew up here." Vilkas grinned as the two sat down at a table.

"It's never been important. I never had to go on a job here, and I haven't had much of a reason to visit."

"What about family?"

"If you'd like to see them, they're down at the cemetery," Ria said. Honestly, she felt remarkably composed, even as Vilkas' face fell across from her. "My parents died, and I left to join the Companions. And that's that."

"I'm sorry to hear about that," he murmured before taking a sip of his ale.

"It's fine, really. I had twenty-three years with them alive, which is more than most people nowadays can say." She grabbed a piece of bread from her plate and bit a chunk off, distracting herself from the memory. "What about you?" she asked, her mouth full. "Where's your family?"

"My family is the Companions. Farkas is the only blood family I know, and the rest..." He trailed off. His eyes lingered at the table in front of him for a moment until he lifted his gaze, ever so slowly, to meet Ria's. "The rest are as honorable a family as anyone could ever hope for."

"I could say the same."

"I'm glad to hear it."

A lull fell between them as they finished their food. Quietly, in the corner, the bard sang something or other about the Dragonborn. A familiar tune, in a familiar place, and Ria could honestly say she felt comfortable for the first time since they'd left Whiterun that morning.

Ria swigged the last of her mead. "I've nearly finished the scarf."

Vilkas' head perked up, and a smile spread across his face. "Have you now? I'll have to teach you to bind off the stitches when we return to Jorrvaskr.".

"Absolutely." She couldn't stop herself from returning his grin. "Thank you for teaching me, by the way."

"It has been a pleasure. I'm glad to see you learning such a practical thing."

"Not just knitting." Ria laughed as his brow furrowed slightly. "You know, you were the only one to offer to train me when I first joined the Companions The rest were too busy to help most of the time. Thank you for that."

"Well, _somebody_ had to. You could barely swing an axe."

"You didn't help Oslaine this much," Ria noted. The newest member of the Companions also happened to be the newest Harbinger. The more she'd thought about Aela's words this morning, the more Ria had noticed that Vilkas' helpfulness only seemed to extend to her. "You also haven't been on any jobs with her recently."

"She goes on jobs with my brother," he said. His tone was nonchalant, but Ria noticed that he avoided eye contact.

"Well, that's one thing, but there's a whole group of Companions to choose from. Aela's surely a better warrior than me-"

"Aela's a member of the Circle. Someone should be there to look after everyone."

"-or maybe Athis-"

"Athis is too full of himself to be of any use most of the time."

"-and Njada-"

"She punches people whenever they stand in her way."

"-or even Torvar-"

"I'd lose him and find him at the nearest tavern after finishing the job myself."

"-but you always choose me." Ria finally caught his eye. For once, she felt remarkably thankful to Aela for her earlier conversation.

Vilkas inhaled deeply. "Yes. I suppose I do."

"I guess you just like spending time with me." She let a smile creep onto her face.

"That I do. I cannot deny it."

"Is that why you taught me how to knit?" When Vilkas didn't respond, she continued. "I like spending time with you, too. Really."

His eyes flicked downward to the table, away from her gaze. In that moment, an impulse came over Ria that she couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was the mead. Perhaps it was being home. Perhaps it was the knowledge Aela had given her earlier. Most likely it was some combination of all three.

As his eyes glanced away, Ria leaned over the table and pressed a kiss to his lips.

For half a second, he froze against her, obviously not expecting that. In that half-second, she almost regretted the decision. Maybe she'd overstepped an unspoken boundary. After all, he was still her superior, even if he was her friend. He was still several years older than her. Maybe Aela had been entirely wrong.

All those thoughts flew from her head when Vilkas leaned towards her, pressing his lips harder against hers.

Ria may have stayed there forever, if not for the fact that they were in a tavern surrounded by people she'd known much of her life. When she did pull away, his lips curled upwards into a smile, and she could feel hers doing the same.

"Thank you for everything," she whispered as she reached under the table for his hand.


	7. Binding Off

"Here."

Ria sat in a chair in Vilkas' bedroom in Jorrvaskr, almost-complete scarf in hand. She held the knitting needles between her fingers again as he instructed her on how to finish the job.

"What you need to do is knit two stitches. Once you've done that, slip the first stitch over the second stitch, like so." He demonstrated on his own knitting needles. "Knit another stitch, and repeat. It's the simplest part of the project."

It looked easy enough, but, to be fair, Vilkas made nearly everything look easy. Ria completed two stitches, stuck the needle through the first stitch and carefully lifted over the stitch closer to the tip of the needle. When it came off cleanly, she breathed a sigh of relief. She kept knitting all across the row, until a single stitch was left. "What now?"

"I'll show you." He grabbed a dagger from his table and ran it through the yarn, cutting it cleanly. "Now, all you need to do is pull the yarn through the final stitch and tie it tightly."

As he said, it really was simple. "I did it!"

A smile brighter than the sun blossomed on Vilkas' face. "You did it!"

Ria all but threw the scarf to the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck. His own arms wound tightly around her torso, squeezing her proudly. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

When she pulled her face away, there was a look in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. It was warm, and intense, and calming, and frightening, all at the same time.

She'd barely had time to contemplate it before he pressed his lips to hers. This time, without the gaze of others to hold her back, she allowed herself to melt into his embrace. As soon as she responded, his mouth opened against her, taking her lower lip between his and tasting it with his tongue. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him back with all the fervor she could muster.

This was nothing at all like Falkreath. _Falkreath_ had been sweet. _Now_ was a firestorm. _Falkreath_ had been a year's worth of shying away and almost-touching. _Now_ was a year's worth of pent-up passion breaking through a floodgate.

Both were wonderful.

It wasn't long until he pulled away from her for lack of air. Ria's breaths fell heavy as she loosed her fingers from his hair and leaned back against his arms, which still held her tight. "I've wanted to do that for what feels like an eternity," he murmured.

Ria idly tucked a piece of loose hair behind his ear. "Me, too." As her hand brushed over his cheek, he smiled. "Why'd it take so long?"

Vilkas inhaled deeply as he contemplated the question. "I was... concerned," he said carefully, "that it might seem inappropriate. As your trainer, and as a member of the Circle, I was in a position of power over you, and I did not wish to make you uncomfortable. Besides," he added, glancing away for a moment, "I had no idea if you were interested."

"Why wouldn't I be?" She smiled as he looked back at her. "Here I was, thinking that I couldn't possibly interest you. I mean, you're an honored warrior. Honestly, I thought you would be chosen to be Harbinger. And I'd just assumed we were just friends, and I would be okay with that, but then Aela said-"

"Aela?" Vilkas raised an eyebrow in confusion.

Ria stifled a laugh as she began to remember the encounter. "Well, I was looking for you, and I bumped into Aela. She'd said something comparing you to a lovesick puppy. It's not important now, anyways." When Vilkas' eyes narrowed at the information, she held up a finger. "Don't. I ought to be thanking her."

"As should I."

His eyes softened as he leaned into hers again. His kiss was sweet this time, gentle and soft. He unwound his arms from around her, and she let out a light sigh when his hands moved to cup her face. One kiss quickly became two, and two became three, and three, four, and so on. His lips felt so wonderful against hers that she felt positively giddy.

She would learn to knit from scratch all over again just to stay like this forever.

* * *

**AN:** Well, that's the end of this story, I suppose. Thank you to everyone who's read it (and double thank you's to all those who've been kind enough to follow, fave, and/or review)! I have some other stories I've been planning and working on that follow it, but I haven't decided yet on how I'll be publishing them or if they'll even be in order.


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